


Shadows and Secrets

by OneFail_AtATime



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 13, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), F/M, Garvez, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Rewrite, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneFail_AtATime/pseuds/OneFail_AtATime
Summary: With the BAU in trouble, Section Chief Matt Cruz reaches out to someone with a unique background meant to help protect the behavioral analysts from bureaucratic agendas.There's just one problem.She wants nothing to do with the BAU.
Relationships: Luke Alvez/Penelope Garcia
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. Madame Dumont - Part One

There are times when your mind doesn’t truly process the danger that you’re in.

You’re focused on a goal or focused on someone else. In that moment, from where I sat in the crowded bar just a few inches away from a known human trafficker, I knew that it was a combination of those two reasons which had brought me there. One reason being the knowledge that nearly four dozen women had recently been sold into a dark net trafficking ring and the team responsible for their rescue was closing in on their location at an alarming rate.

The man in front of me was a monster. But I had a job to do.

I knew it. He knew it. The eleven women he had personally purchased, tortured, and mutilated had known it as well. Only one had managed to escape and she would bare emotional and physical scars while forever fighting the painful memories which would, in all likelihood, haunt her forever.

But that thought made me angry, emotional.

Emotions were dangerous.

The man sitting across from me smiled. “Your profile came highly recommended.” My response was to smile slyly while motioning for the bartender to bring another round of drinks, despite the fact that I had hardly touched my first. But, as I had known he would, my guest was too distracted by the task at hand to pay too much attention to me at the moment. He continued to speak. “I was surprised you agreed to meet me in person.”

“Your profile was impressive as well.” I answered honestly. “Cultivating _relationships_ for businessmen and politicians across the world? You’ve been running your dealings for five years without any trace law enforcement could use against you. Most people nowadays only care about profits. They get sloppy. So when my own clients began to mention you on more than one occasion…well, I couldn’t ignore the message when you first reached out to me. I devoured every piece of information about you and still had to know more.” And despite my feelings for the man, it wasn’t a lie.

He seemed pleased by the compliment and leaned in slightly. “My clients are in a very delicate position as I’m sure you understand, but it doesn’t make them any less important.” The trafficker agreed as he seemed to chuckle at his own memory. “There’s a gentleman in Russia…. He likes to take his political frustrations out on a girl from the offending country.”

Images flashed through my mind at the memory of everything I had witnessed in my time. Women returned, scarred beyond recognition. Bodies dumped to never be found only to be whispered about in dark corners of private bars from alcohol loosened lips. How long had I been in this position? How many women had I been forced to leave behind because of my own choices?

The thought was nauseating.

Inhaling slowly helped to calm my thoughts as I pulled another smile from deep within and tossed my loose curls over one shoulder, leaning against the trafficker just enough so that I knew he could smell the perfume that I wore. “He sounds like an interesting man.” I lied, knowing that both the man before me and his client would tear a woman like me apart if my position wasn’t there to protect me. But I had learned to smile through my lies many years ago. “I’d be able to help with any American or British preferences, of course. Given the political climate, I’m sure that they are at the top of his list.” The man next to me raised his chin to show interest. Good. “You’ve seen the videos and you’ve seen the price list. But before we go any further, you will have to prove your identity.”

The man’s smile faltered and his hand fell to his waist. Acting quickly, I leaned in to close the distance between the two of us as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Gregory, calm yourself. If you had walked into any trap then I know you and your _associates_ would have known it as soon as you set foot in this place. Instead, you came to make a deal with a madam whose name has been known in the underground for the last ten years.” My hand rested on his forearm with that statement. “But what do I have from you beyond your name and your finances? Prove yourself and then we talk numbers." Gregory’s body language relaxed, although I could see a clear change in his expression. Calling for him to prove himself had challenged his reputation. It had challenged his masculinity. A true smile pulled at my lips. This night had been months in the making, but it wouldn’t be long now.

As if on cue, Gregory leaned back in. Our faces were near enough that I could see the shadow of stubble starting to darken freshly shaved skin. “What is it that you want to know, Madame Dumont?” He asked, his voice throaty and low as he worked to prove himself in more ways than one. It wasn’t hard to see that he was dying to showcase his skills. He thrived off attention.

“Start at the beginning.” I whispered. My hand moved up from his forearm to rest at his elbow. “When did you first hear of me?”

Gregory looked down at my hand and smiled. “It was four years ago when I was getting started in the business. A few … supplies had mentioned your own ring when my clients began to crave a taste for _specifics_. When the Mexico-California ring was brought down, I began to look for alternatives.

Images of bodies came from the depths of my mind and in that moment, I could still hear the ring of gunfire. I had been there for the Mexicali massacre. Everyone had been fleeing to save themselves. So many had died in the process. I had been a different person before then but that side was gone now. Only Madame Dumont remained. And I couldn’t afford to mess anything up.

“Miami.” I said suddenly with a burst of memory. “I was working out of Florida prior to that, just before I relocated to Chicago.” An honest smile played on my lips. “I still have a strong connection to the clubs in and around Ocean Drive.”

Gregory nodded. “Yes. There was a favorite club of mine. The one with the tunneled backroom.”

Tears. Dirt. Darkness. Chains.

“I remember. It was a favorite of my own.” I recalled as I reached for my drink. “When I expanded my trade, I was able to construct similar clubs in other cities. Los Angeles may be a personal favorite, though competition is fierce.” The rim of the glass touched my lips, though I never took a sip. I set the glass back down on the bar and met Gregory’s gaze directly. “Why are you looking to change suppliers then? I thought you and Chatty Claude had been partners for some time – three years, was it?”

Gregory shrugged. “Dear Claude’s supply has been … tainted, with addiction. There are a number of my clients, _important clients_ , who are looking for cleaner girls, trained girls. That’s when I decided to turn to a madam like yourself.”

“The girls won’t come cheap.” I reminded him. “Can you afford it? Your business runs in and out of a troubling area.”

Gregory was clearly offended, though he refused to admit his domestic place of operation. “That city is just one location, dear. It may be where a portion of my funds are wired but I know that my reports include dealings with the trafficking done in others, like the work in Mumbai. Or Vancouver.”

There it was. The key word.

“Canada.” I repeated, my voice low with feigned interest. I leaned back into him once more. “They never seem to get their hands dirty. But when you look more closely...”

Gregory’s sly smirk returned. “American girls feel comfortable up north. They let their guard down … and then my men move in.”

“ _Your men_.” I repeated once more, anxious to dig deeper. “Don’t _you_ ever get your hands dirty then?”

“Do you?” The trafficker responded quickly.

My response was to shrug my shoulders as I leaned back against my chair, making sure to maintain the closeness between us as I also leaned to the side. “I do what I have to do, Gregory. There’s seasoning and branding to be done. Quotes have to be made. But when you run a pipeline like mine then there’s hardly an occasion for me to dirty my hands anymore.”

He broke our gaze in order to look me up and down, something he had done half a dozen times since we had sat down at the bar twenty minutes ago. Distracted, he pulled his phone from his pocket to check his messages. “Yes, a pipeline. Like yours. It’s impressive for someone so young.”

It was my turn to shrug. “I have a knack for the business, and for the most part, I keep myself clean. Usually others negotiate business on my behalf. But you, Gregory Peters? Your resume is impressive and I wanted to meet you personally.” Playing off his attention to myself, I looked him up and down as well. His gaze darkened. “I’ve heard the stories. Running for Congress? Ballsy.”

“Is that the only story that you’ve heard about me?”

“There were plenty of stories.” I smirked. And it was the truth. Rumors of his history in the network, of the women that he had taken for himself, of the ones that he had left behind. But of course those weren’t the rumors he was asking about. In that moment, he was only concerned for himself and what he could get out of this agreement.

But fortunately, I had to keep my own needs at the front of my mind as well.

When Gregory Peters leaned in across the bar to rest his hand on my leg, I didn’t flinch. This was the business. This was my job. A man like this had his expectations and if the transaction was to go the way that I had planned then I would be forced to meet those expectations. He was uncomfortably close and I only managed to still his advances by placing a firm hand on his chest, smiling softly as I leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“What do you say we get out of here and talk business somewhere more comfortable?” Because there would be no talk of business unless Peters thought he would be getting what he wanted. I had worked with enough men like him to know.

I was so close to my goal that I could practically taste it. Months of work and years of preparation had gone into this very night. No one would be able to question me after I walked out of this bar. In a career dominated by men, I would only draw respect.

Men were always suspicious of other men. Women were the panthers crouching in the shadows.

The information I needed was kept on his phone and thanks to his obviously being distracted by the length of my skirt, I had already been able to memorize the code he used to unlock it on more than one occasion.

Give me that with the flash drive that I knew was connected to his watch and an hour with a trusted hacker and I would have everything I needed.

Which meant it was time to close the deal as soon as we could get to a quieter location.

Leaning in to rest my hand on his forearm, I drew Gregory close enough to whisper in his ear. “I would also like to …. sample the merchandise. Get an idea of what I'm selling my girls into.” My voice was low and breathy, something that drew a clear reaction from him. “Did you bring her?”

“Of course.” Gregory answered throatily. I leaned back and nodded to my guard. Gregory nodded to his in return.

“I’ll follow you up.” I explained, standing slowly as I ran my hand along Gregory’s arm. “Just let me speak with my man first. Anything suspicious and the deal is off. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Of course.” Gregory agreed. He pressed the room key card into my palm.

My muscle for the night, James, followed me closely as I made my way out of the hotel bar and into the hallway. “You sure you want to do this?”

“We can’t change the plan now, Jimmy. It’ll only make him nervous. It won’t work if he’s nervous.”

“Don’t call me Jimmy. Only my mama calls me Jimmy.”

“Just stick to the plan, James.” I repeated as we stopped in front of the elevator. If I had been anyone else then I would be trembling at the idea of going up to the room alone with such a dark mind as Peters.

But I wasn’t.

Because I was Madame Dumont.

And I had my own reasons for being there.

James let me go without another word, nodding firmly to acknowledge that he would be waiting nearby. It was a short ride to the top floor but it gave me enough time to refocus my mind on the endgame. Peters was only a bump in the road. Just one branch of a much larger tree. Getting access to his private finances and files tonight would also give me every location of where his _merchandise_ was stored. It would be over before he knew it and once again, I would get what I wanted.

The door chimed softly as it unlocked and I moved into the room, not surprised by how dark it was. Gregory sat on the bed in the corner, a new drink in his hand. He moved towards me slowly and I felt my stomach start to twist in anticipation, though I quickly silenced it. As his hand moved to grip me by the waist, I took a moment to look around the room. “She’s not here?”

“Calm down. My man’s keeping her company in the next room.” He assured me softly as his hold on my waist tightened. I spared a glance towards the bed where he had left his phone out in the open.

It would be easier than I thought.

Reaching out to Gregory, I slid my arm around his waist to pull his body flush against mine. His hand slid down from my waist slowly, clearly enjoying the moment.

“Gregory, maybe we should-“

“FBI!”

There was a loud crash from the door connecting to the next room and I turned to see a swarm of federal agents in bulletproof vests with their guns drawn and aimed at the two of us. Gregory released me from his hold and took a step backwards, dropping his drink in the process. The alcohol spilled across the carpet, leaving a dark stain as the reinforced glass rolled back towards the bed. I stood still in the moment, watching as agents continued to burst into the room with the barrels of their guns all pointed at either of us. I turned to Gregory, my eyes dark.

“You set me up?!” I demanded, my voice rising as I felt one agent take my hands and roughly pull them behind my back. They were reading off my rights as cool metal from handcuffs slipped around my wrists but I could only watch Gregory. His eyes were wide and beads of sweat were already forming across his brow.

This certainly wasn’t how he envisioned the night ending.


	2. Madame Dumont - Part Two

The federal agents manhandled the two of us out of the hotel room and led us in separate directions. I was pushed towards the elevators while Gregory was pulled into the room adjourning the suite. Patrons of the hotel had opened their doors at the commotion, only to shut them quickly as they realized what was happening before their very eyes. No doubt the guests would take to social media and create a wild story about what they had witnessed. Everything from a drug bust to cult members would be a part of tonight’s speculations. I remained silent and surrounded by agents as we made our way down to the main lobby, expecting to be dragged through a crowd of reporters only for said agents to pull me in the opposite direction towards the hotel’s employee entrance. The back hallway was crowded with federal agents, local police, SWAT members, and a number of individuals in suits. I recognized James standing in the midst of them all. A smile brightened his dark features as I passed but he made no comment in my direction.

We continued down the hallway and through the side entrance to where I was unceremoniously tossed into a large SUV. The two federal agents said nothing beyond the occasional disgusted glance as they drove me through the city. My thoughts took me back to everything that had led me to that moment. Months of preparing to not only meet Gregory Peters, but three other trafficking connections as well. I had been all over the United States and even down to Mexico on one particular occasion.

As the federal building came into view, my thoughts settled on the latest collection of women that Peters had mentioned numerous times. Had the night been a failure?

I was ushered out of the SUV and into the building’s main lobby, which led to a pair of elevators in the adjourning hallway. The security guards and receptionist for the lobby were watching me closely, though the arresting agents never took their hands from my shoulders. It was amusing considering that I had made sure to not arm myself that evening in case Peters was like most men and became spooked by the idea of a woman with a gun. If that was the case then he must have been very uncomfortable in that moment as he stood between two female agents, both with their guns proudly displayed in exposed holsters. His hands remained cuffed and he was sweating profusely.

The pair of arresting agents led me straight into an interrogation room where a man stood patiently waiting. James was now proudly displaying his badge at his belt and he smiled broadly as soon as he saw me. The two agents exchanged glances, clearly confused.

“Great work, Soleil.” James complimented as he nodded for the agents to remove my cuffs. Their confusion grew more visible, which meant that our plan had gone better than I had expected, considering James’ last minute change to the arrest outline.

“Thanks, Jimmy.” I grinned in return, rubbing at where the metal had cut into my wrists.

The two agents had started to blink rapidly and James chuckled at their questioning faces before motioning in my direction. “Dyer, Kerman, meet Supervisory Special Agent Rae Soleil. Without her work posing as the dark net madam then we would have never made the Peters arrest.”

“Now you’re just trying to get on my good side.” I teased before turning to the agents. “You can direct any questions at Agent Hunter here. James was the one who decided to keep me in handcuffs the entire way over.” I turned to the man in question. “What happened to the kitchen plan?”

He shrugged. “We wanted to make sure Peters got a glimpse of you here in the building while still cuffed. If he needs to break during interrogation then I thought we’d throw you in the room together, see what you can get just from the shock value.”

Impressive. “What about the girl in the next room?” Now that my hands were free, I had started to unclip the collection of wired mics that had been placed just inside my shirt.

James nodded. “Medics were checking her out when I left. They should be bringing her in now for a statement. The tech was able to hack his phone using the code you observed. Smart of you to tap it into a signal. It gave the team a great head start.”

“We know for certain where the others are being held then?” Nobody blinked as I started to unbutton the silk blouse. The tangle of wires ran up from my hips and under an arm. The female agent, Dyer, moved to my side in order to help as she realized what I was trying to do.

The door opened and I heard a voice call ‘Thanks to you’ in response. I turned from where Dyer and I were working to untangle the wired mic that was crisscrossed over my torso. Andi Swann was smiling at me from the doorway. “Nicely done, Agent Soleil. We were able to locate the Vancouver shipyard where the victims were being held before you had even suggested leaving the bar.”

“That’ll make Renee happy. She was practically foaming at the mouth to get him after the silent raid back in Chicago last year.”

“It wouldn’t have happened so smoothly without you.” Chief Swann admitted. “Adopting the persona of Madame Dumont couldn’t have been easy. You’ve been using the identity for months.”

It was all I could do to shrug in response, not wanting to give anyone an excuse to question my own stability. I turned to Dyer and thanked her once the last of the mics had been removed. She and her partner left with the surveillance equipment. I turned back to Andi. “I fit her physical description. It was only a matter of studying her once she was in custody … with a few changes.” I gestured towards the deep red that was my temporarily dyed hair.

Andi laughed with me. It felt good to laugh now that the weight of our case had been lifted. “Enjoy the red before it washes out.” She offered. “It looks good.”

“It certainly looks different.”

We both turned at the comment. Matteo Cruz stood a few feet away, smiling in the doorway.

“Cruz.” I nodded in greeting. “I thought you might be here.”

He nodded in return. “Nobody is going to take down a man like Peters without the higher ups wanting to know anything and everything.” Cruz turned to look at our group. “You all did a great job and don’t worry yourself with Peters. He’ll be locked away soon enough.”

“Though how you managed to listen to him for so long …” James trailed off with an eye roll.

“Try standing next to him. If he had glanced down my shirt one more time-“

“Soleil.” Andi Swann cautioned.

“Like you wouldn’t have been disgusted.” To my right, both Cruz and James fought a smile at my outburst. I began to shift my weight from one foot to the other, dying to get out of the madam styled heels. “At least he’ll never have a chance of brokering with Russia.”

Cruz shrugged. “I have a feeling the files from his phone will lead to a few contacts in the business sphere. It’s concerning but nothing that we haven’t handled before when it comes to lobbyists.”

I looked back to Cruz. “Anything I should help with?” He seemed distracted, like there was a lot more to than this case weighing him down. In the years that I had known Matteo Cruz, there were only a handful of situations that would cause the tightness in his brow and the slump in his shoulders. It usually had something to do with domestic terrorism but this … this was different.

He noticed that I was watching him and attempted to brush it off. “Why don’t you give your statements to the agents and let me know when you’re ready. Davis and Milan will be starting Peters’ interrogation. Your inside information from the original Dumont arrest will be helpful.” Cruz avoided my questioning stare as he turned to Andi Swann. “I’ll be in touch over the next few days as you wrap things up here but Soleil and I will be flying out this evening.”

Yet another red flag. I only ever flew with Cruz separately when there was another case that he wanted me to assist on. Those cases were usually the most difficult.

Pushing my concern to the back of my mind, I made my way into the side room where James and I would give our statements. It would be a while before I could make my way back to Cruz. That meant that I could only focus on the task at hand.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Notes were taken. Statements were filed. The aftermath of Peters’ arrest hadn’t taken as long as I had originally anticipated but it had been extremely exhausting. There were only so many times that you could repeat the same question to different people before the throbbing in your skull became permanent. Their questions had seemed endless.

_And just how long had you studied Madame Dumont?_

_We had most of Peters’ information prior to the arrest. Why the need for a private takedown?_

_Was there any additional insight that came from the arrest?_

_Just how many traffickers did you meet with in the last month before Peters had agreed to meet? What was their connection to the inner ring?_

The flood of questions was enough to drive anyone crazy, let alone someone who had been in isolation for nearly two months while undercover. In order to avoid suspicion after Dumont’s arrest, I had been placed in one of her own properties and only left to drive into the city where Dumont had been held prior to her transfer. It had given me the time that I needed to study anything and everything about the woman who had operated a billion dollar trafficking network but I was finally ready to get back to a place where the work didn’t involve any impersonations.

I was ready to get back to being me.

Because while Gregory Peters had become a monster, Madame Dumont had been her own kind of villain. Images of men, women, teens, and children would never leave my mind once I had been left alone to study the case files related to their abductions, or worse, the coroner’s reports once their bodies had been recovered. And it was the twisted way that Dumont referred to them as ‘her products’ which would always twist my stomach. In order to distance herself from the work she did in order to maintain her elite lifestyle, she had resorted to viewing the trafficking victims as inanimate objects; they would only ever be items meant for buying and selling.

All in exchange for cash, land, and summers on a yacht.

Humanity.

The depressing thoughts were starting to get to me by the time I requested a driver to take me to the airstrip. Chief Cruz was waiting on the jet that he often shared with counter terrorism. An open bottle of whiskey was resting on the table in front of his seat and he sat with a drink already in hand.

“Save any for me?” I asked as I tossed my bag onto the cushioned bench and took a seat opposite the chief. Cruz nodded and reached for a second glass that sat near the window sill, pausing to text the pilot that we were ready when he was. The jet’s engines started before I had even poured my drink. There were a number of reports spread across the table before Cruz and across from him, I buried myself into a book that I had been attempting to finish prior to my Dumont isolation.

“What are you reading?” Cruz asked once we were in the air. He leaned forwards to squint at the title as I raised the book for him to see. “ _Deerdancer_?”

“The author discusses shamanism, self-awareness, and shapeshifting mythology.” I summarized as I leaned back in the seat and started to read once more.

“You and your mythology.” He murmured with a teasing roll of his eyes. I rolled mine in return. Mythology had proven useful knowledge on a number of assignments, as he would know. His teasing was his own way of reducing the tension between us that was only natural after such a long case. I had spent months preparing to impersonate Madame Dumont and even longer than that preparing to arrest Gregory Peters. Cruz had been my supervisor long enough to know that difficult cases meant a difficult time attempting to break back into standard FBI culture.

I took my time reading while only drinking the whiskey in small sips. Drinking after a case like this was always dangerous because there was always the chance that you would attempt to drink away the person that you had been, instead of focusing on returning to the person that you were.

An hour or so passed into our flight before I found a place to stop within the book. My gaze hovered over Cruz as he read through his own reports until the weight of my gaze drew his attention.

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t want to stay quiet for too long.”

“You invited me to fly back with you. That usually means there’s talking to do.”

Cruz hummed in acknowledgement. “Chief Swann mentioned that you handled yourself very well. Your undercover experience will be noted in your file.”

 _Not all my experience_. I thought as memories drew me back to another time while I turned to stare into the darkness that was the window. The chaos surrounding a public arrest such as Peters would mean that everyone involved would be shoved into the spotlight, something that I had specifically asked Chiefs Cruz and Swann to prevent from happening.

Noting my discomfort, Cruz turned his attention back to his briefings. “The Deputy Director was impressed with your performance as well.”

“Don’t.”

We had been down this road too many times before. I knew what Cruz was attempting to do. Ever since I had started as a rotating agent within the Bureau, there was always a chance that I could be pulled back into my work from before. The work involving pain, deception, and a number of physical scars to go with the more damaging mental ones.

My gaze rose to meet his own. “Matt.”

“It’s just a warning. There’s something bigger at play and he’s looking at agents that will fit the needs. You are bound to be noticed after a clean arrest like this.”

“Then you’ll just have to make do on your promise and make sure that they un-notice me.”

“The whole unit will be the center of attention on the Hill once news of this breaks.” Arresting Peters had been discussed and debated heavily ever since evidence of his guilt had come to light. Cruz took a long drink of his whiskey and sighed heavily. “The director is already preparing statements for departments and press. It had to be done but there will still be those who say we overstepped our boundaries.”

“If we’re not the ones to stop people like him then who is?”

Cruz chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Soleil. Titles and political red tape mean nothing. All that matters is right and wrong.”

He made it sound so simple.

Steering the conversation away from myself, I thought back to what I had noticed earlier. “Back at the interrogation … you seemed troubled.” Cruz shifted in his seat and sighed once more.

“The IRT. They’re being investigated.”

“What?” The IRT was a solid unit, a team that I had worked with on a number of assignments. The idea that the team was being investigated seemed like a bad joke.

“There was an incident in Kurjikistan. That was the final straw after the entire team had been on ice after Assistant Director Barnes had gotten her hands on them. She's spearheading the investigation.”

Barnes. Assistant Director Linda Barnes. Her name had been copied on a number of my cases, though I had yet to meet her in person. She had been assigned to a review one of my own cases with the International Response Team but I had been neck deep in the Peters investigation. I hadn’t known how serious it had become. “How…”

“Their case load is being split between different departments at the moment, and not all within the Bureau. You may also be called to testify about your experience with the team.” Cruz fell back into his seat, nursing his drink with a face darkened by defeat. “The audit was requested and before I knew it, everything had turned into a full investigation. I was overseas and only returned for the board to confirm the decision just before they told the team.”

None of it made sense. The International Response Team had an excellent record while being responsible for countless rescues and arrests since the unit had first formed years ago. “What reasoning did they give you? Who was the one to agree with Barnes and go over your head? Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Cruz answered quietly as he stared at the files in front of him. BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS UNIT. DOMES. TERROR. “You are the only agent who has worked with all the units under my responsibility.” He stopped and looked up, locking my gaze with his. “I don’t want there to be any miscommunication about what I ask of you.” He inhaled deeply before beginning. “I do not yet know any reason they could have for continuing this investigation but I will find out.

My heart clenched to see him so distraught. I had been working under Chief Cruz’s command for years and I had only ever known him to give anything and everything in order to support those who reported to him. As a Section Chief in the Violent Crime division, there was always a team or an agent that needed additional support. When Cruz couldn’t help personally, he saw to it that agents like myself were there to help ease the burden that came with the territory of the job. He would be feeling boxed in by political decisions that he had no control over.

I had been there before and wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

“If there’s anything…”

Cruz nodded in understanding. “You’re a good agent, Rae Soleil. I wanted to make you aware of the situation because I know you requested time with the team. That time will be assigned elsewhere.”

“Understood.”

We settled back into our reading. Cruz spent the rest of the flight scanning each file meticulously, undoubtedly looking for any error that could put yet another team at risk. I eased back into the chair’s cushions and did my best to return to the collection of folklore only to be distracted by the collection of issues looming at the back of my mind.

There was the frontrunner: the IRT. The investigation of the team made as much sense to me as it did to Cruz. After working with experts like their anthropologist and technical analyst, I couldn’t see much room for error. Yes, an incident may have occurred in the field but it is something that every unit faces at one time or another. There was something larger at play and though I couldn’t be certain, there was a chance that Cruz would want me to be a part of it. Which was certainly a troubling thought. If someone was acting against our division, for whatever reason, it would be like searching for a political viper in a pit of snakes. Everyone had their own agenda within the Bureau. It was just up to each agent whether the agenda was personal or career driver.

Political snakes indeed.

My most recent assignment, Peters’ takedown, was also weighing on me heavily. The division was getting better at breaking down the walls between financial tycoons and their dark histories that those walls themselves hid but there was still massive room for improvement. Money made things easy to hide to the untrained eye. The investigation into Peters’ trafficking ring had started over two years ago, when he had just been a blip on our radar. How many more blips would reveal entire networks that were running right under our noses? It was a troubling thought to say the least.

When we touched down in DC hours later, I was no further into my reading than I had been at the start of my conversation with Cruz. As much as I hated to admit it, the weight of Dumont and her crimes were distracting me. I couldn’t get the image of Peters smiling at me from across the bar out of my head, as if we were kindred spirits, as if he _understood me_. He had looked at me and seen a monster, a fellow companion. Even the agents who had arrested me in the hotel room had believed the persona that I had adopted. They had been disgusted by what they believed when they had forced me into the FBI vehicle. Neither of them questioned their orders. There was just something unsettling about what Peters thought he had recognized in me that kept me from truly putting the case behind me.

Cruz murmured for me to go home and rest as we stepped off the jet but I couldn’t shake the uneasiness that came from Peters’ twisted smile. It would take days, if not weeks, to decompress and shake the memories of this case. Reaching into my pocket to retrieve my phone, I dialed a number by memory only to sigh as the call went straight to voicemail.

“I’m here. I’m home.” I started the message. “It was a rough one this time.”

I didn’t say a word as the ride share driver picked me up from the airstrip and I thought of how someone could be abducted by a false drivers. Nor did I say anything when my neighbors waved to me as they were taking out the trash and I was buzzed into the building, thinking of how easy it would be for someone to just disappear in the middle of the night, right outside their door. I was thinking like a trafficker, thinking like the Madame.

And I hated it.

The apartment was silent, the last thing I needed. Even with the meditation CD playing and my body still from where I sat on the edge of my bed, I still couldn’t clear my mind of everything related to Madame Dumont. Her favorite designer. Where she had spent New Year’s Eve. Her story of how she had come into money only to triple her profits once she started in the modern slave trade. It was the way she smiled and used men to her own advantage. The perfume that I would always remember. How long it took to style my hair _exactly like hers_. Images from the case files would come back to my mind each time I closed my eyes. My mind was drawn to all the emails I had sent in those months pretending to be _that woman_. I did my best not to think of the countless women that had suffered, _had died_ , while my team had gone after another target. We had brought down and arrested three other traffickers with my impersonation. That was the positive outcome that I needed to focus on.

Madame Dumont had wormed her way into my life after all those months and the silence of being home, alone, was only making it worse. Inhaling deeply, I tapped my hand against my knees in a steady rhythm as I attempted to clear my mind of all things related to the secondary identity. 

_I am Rae Soleil, Supervisory Special Agent. I am Rae Soleil. I am Rae Soleil..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's just the beginning but I hope everyone enjoys where the fic is starting to go!


	3. Someone, Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU continues to struggle with one of their own imprisoned as the threat from Peter Lewis hangs over their heads. Luke finds himself worried about about a teammate.

Tensions were high throughout the BAU once news began to spread about how Reid had once again been denied protective custody within the prison. It had a sobering effect on the entire team and to deal with said stress, when they weren’t on a case, they were searching for evidence that could help to free him. And while they were all considerably worried for Reid’s emotional and physical safety, others were starting to have concerns for Garcia’s wellbeing.

Others like Luke Alvez.

The heart of their team had been bruised on more than one occasion as of late, considering the ordered disappearance of their unit chief followed by Reid’s imprisonment. There was only so much that a bright soul could handle. And where look was concerned, that made him considerably more worried. He hadn’t told a soul that he had found Penelope crying in her office the day after Reid had been beaten bloody by the prison gang. Something in her slightly nervous behavior around him since it had happened told him that Garcia hadn’t told anyone else either. It was marked as a shared private moment between them. She may have been near her emotional breaking point but she didn’t need anyone’s sympathy, especially his. But he had helped her anyway. Because she had let him.

Her aversion to him was starting to change. Ever so slowly. She was warming towards him and he could tell that she was annoyed by it. Luke had meant it when he had said she wore armor, but he was working his way through said tough exterior that she was so determined to keep up around him. No matter how much snark she threw his way, he couldn’t back down. There was just something about Penelope Garcia that he couldn’t let go. It had been that way since he had first met her that bright summer morning when he had been a part of the joint task force recruited to catch the thirteen escaped serial killers. She had looked just as bright and as warm as the sun that came shining in through the office windows. After more than a decade of darkness among the Rangers and the task force, Garcia was a welcome dose of brilliant light.

If only he could find a way to tell her without sounding like a complete lunatic.

It was the reason why he worried for her just as much as he did for Reid. It helped to know that the other members of the team seemed just as focused on hunting Scratch as he was, though they all pretended as if they weren’t taking case files home or asking for favors from other agencies. There had been a shift across the entire unit once they had learned of the escalation of violence between Reid’s beating and Delgado’s death. That led to more frequent nights where more than one team member stayed behind to compile their own list of resources that could lead to Reid’s release from prison. Tonight was one of those nights. Frustrated with the lack of intelligence coming from his contacts with the Fugitive Task Force, Luke had decided to compile a new list of contacts whose roles ranged from Counter Terrorism to former Rangers spread throughout Central America. Someone, somewhere had to have Peter Lewis on their radar as well.

Crossing another name off his list, he stared down at the set of initials beside the next number to call. Including said contact had been something of a long shot but at that point, Luke was taking all the shots he could get.

Anything to help Reid. 

The phone rang once, twice, three times before he was sent to voicemail. That’s when his real uncertainty set in. Inhaling deeply, Luke did his very best to steady himself before speaking. “Hey. It’s me. Luke. I, uh, I need a favor. It’s one of the escapees. Peter Lewis. If you can take a look at the file I just emailed then we’d, I mean,” Luke sighed. “I’d just appreciate your input and hope you’ll share it with a few of your people. So yeah. Call me when you’re free maybe?” He paused. “Roxie misses you.” It was a low blow to take but he might as well be honest. “Hell, I miss you too. Call me back.”

Frustrated with his own guilt, Luke dropped his phone on the desk with a deep exhale. Why did a lapse in communication make things so complicated?

“Who do you miss?” A teasing voice asked, one familiar enough to send him spinning in his chair until he was face to face with none other than one Penelope Garcia. She was watching him closely while taking a brief second to steal a side glance at his list of contacts. Suddenly feeling as if he was back in middle school, Luke started to stammer at being caught.

“Uh, no-nobody. I-I mean someone b-but nobody that I expect a call … back from.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow. “That’s rather suspicious, newb.” Recognition lit her features. “Were you calling an ex?”

That certainly sparked his defenses. Straightening in his chair, Luke looked Garcia directly in the eye to answer her question. “No. She’s just an old contact of mine. We lost touch and if I’m going to get help tracking Scratch then I may need to guilt her into reaching out.”

“Oh.” Penelope appeared to accept his explanation. “And just what does this mystery lady do?”

“Not sure nowadays but my other head hunter leads dried up so I took a page from your book. I’m trying to be creative. Anyone and everyone who could help will be getting a call from me.”

Garcia’s face darkened with sadness and understanding. Her voice dropped to a murmur. “I’ve reached out to a few non-government hackers that I _definitely_ shouldn’t be in contact with and if you say anything to anyone then I will absolutely completely deny everything when you eventually go missing.” Despite her guilt, the analyst straightened her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly. “But this is all for Reid and that’s all that matters.” She inhaled to steady herself. “It’s not getting any easier.” She blurted in confession. She looked to Luke with an expression that was almost ashamed. “I just thought … I’m still be worried for Reid but I don’t know, I think I just expected to get used to that kind of worry. Like how I worry each time you all take a case. I’m used to that kind of worry. I learned to handle that kind of worry.”

Her broken look tugged at his heart, making him wish he could pull her into his arms and make everything bad go away. “Penelope, nobody could get used to something like this. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make it wrong. It doesn’t’ make you weak. It just makes you human.” Garcia broke the gaze they held, clearly ruffled by the heartfelt statement he had made. She sniffed, wiped at her eye with the heel of her hand, and turned away from him.

Her sight landed on Rossi’s office after noticing that the room was dark. “Damn. I needed his consultation for the Raleigh PD.” 

Luke turned in order to manually cross the last number from his list. “Yeah, he left a bit ago after making a few calls on his own.” He turned back to face Penelope. “What about you?” He asked tentatively. “Did your people find anything?” Luke questioned, knowing that she would have a seemingly endless list of connections, illegal hackers or no. Not to mention the scans that she always had running in the background for the slightest sign of Scratch on any and every city camera that she could hack into.

Except Penelope only shrugged.

“Cameras near the border were a bust, so I’ve been considering the idea that he’s traveling further south instead. But neither I nor the hackers who shall not be named can find any Mexican ID in any system that matches Scratch’s profile.”

“And other countries in Central America?” Luke suggested. “He’ll certainly be traveling with an alias and probably out through an area where he can easily forge one. Any country in the area experiencing political turmoil in recent years for that matter. I’d focus on those cities where fighting and trafficking are reported to be the worst.”

In a rare move, Garcia threw her arms out as if to hug him only to stop herself a moment later. Her hands dropped back to her side but her smile remained. “That’s a great idea, Luke. I’ll start there!” Her face was flush with color from her brief self-embarrassment. He could only smile.

Luke. He was Luke again.

They fell into a heavy silence after that. It was a rare moment when they spoke like that with one another, honest and open without any banter or teasing. It gave him a glimpse into what a normal day with Penelope could be like. One outside the BAU where they could just sit and talk without any of the pressure that being at work always seemed to bring. It was an idea that crossed his mind every now and then. What would it be like to get the Queen Bee out of her comfort zone? He had seen her with the team after drinks at O’Keefe’s but the team was her protective bubble. They were a part of the fluffy armor that he wanted to see her without. Luke jumped to his feet suddenly, shaking himself from dangerous thoughts and startling Garcia with such a quick move. He couldn’t let himself go down that mental road, especially with her watching him so closely. “C’mon. You know you’re staying late at the office when you’re still here after both Prentiss _and_ Rossi leave. We both need some rest.”

Garcia hesitated. “I was going to run those searches.”

“You can run those from home, yeah?”

“Well … yeah.” She answered with a shrug.

He smiled gently. “Then c’mon. If you’re going to keep working late then you can at least do it from the comfort of your own home.” He watched as she battled internally with her own choice. She clearly didn’t want to give in but he knew that she was just as tired as he was. If not more.

“Fine.” She relented with an eye roll. Garcia raised her brow when he moved to follow her. “What? Are you walking me to my car or something?”

“The Queen of Ice does need a proper knight to escort her.”

“Well, I don’t see one around her.” Penelope answered pointedly as she continued towards her office, not bothering to wait for him to follow. “And it’s the Queen of _Nice_ , newbie.”

Luke placed a hand to his chest in mock apology. “Of course. My bad.” He bit back a smile at the annoyed look that she flashed him in response. As much as he wanted to get to know the real Penelope Garcia, he still loved the way that he could get under her skin with the easiest tease. It was a noted difference from the cold shoulder that he used to get. That afternoon he had found her crying in her office had helped to change things, even if just a little. There was a layer of trust between them that a friendship was slowly building on. Luke had hated to see her so upset that day and wanted to do everything in his power to ensure that she would never have to feel that way again.

And she seemed to know that too. It was evident in the softest of smiles that she gave him as she turned away from locking her office to head toward the elevators. She was starting to trust him in spite of all the disdain that she had when he first joined the team. He had promised her that he would be there if she ever needed him. And he meant it.

Just as he promised himself that he would do anything just to bring back the warmth and sunshine that had first caught his attention those months before.

Which meant they had to get Reid out of prison. 


	4. Disbanded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Section Chief Cruz is on alert after the IRT is disbanded. Worried for his other units, he calls Agent Soleil into his office. This prompts a troubled Rae to reach out to an old acquaintance.

An email from your supervisor was always a definite cause for concern.

But six emails, two phone calls, and four texts were a definite cause for worry.

That was just as many messages that I had received from Cruz in the span of one evening that I had spent shut inside a small office with a unit of agents from Domestic Terrorism as they failed to agree upon which case should take the highest priority out of the most recent reports that had been received. It was par for the course in the unit as they faced pressure from Homeland Security and other government branches that were eager to step into their territory. I had ignored the first of Cruz’s messages but by the time the unit had released for the day, there was no way I could continue to overlook his attempts to make contact.

**CALL WHEN AVAILABLE.**

**IMPORTANT UPDATE. CONTACT NEEDED.**

Cruz’s emails were just as worrying as his messages. Two were calendar invitations for a meeting, both at the same time with two separate locations. The titles were much more formal and used phrases that would bring worry to anyone.

**Meeting Scheduled.**

**Changes.**

**Participation Required.**

**Pending Director Approval.**

This only added to my concern as I gathered my things and waved goodbye to the other agents who were talking in the hallway outside my office. No one else had made any mention of receiving anything from Cruz. Allowing myself a moment to sigh openly as I cleared my head, I responded to the messages in order and had a reply within a minute. He had clearly been waiting as he announced we would met downstairs. Just what was he up to?

The short elevator ride to the sixth floor was hardly enough time to fully compose my thoughts. I had only formed a partial personal theory as to what I could be headed into by the time I made it to the section chief’s office on the sixth floor.

Matt Cruz was seated and waiting in his office. Judging by his ruffled hair and annoyed expression, something significant had occurred. It was anyone’s guess as to what, given the rollercoaster that the last year had been. Before I could offer a greeting, he responded with a firm “shut the door” and I felt my stomach drop, though I was careful to not let my own concern show.

“Sir.” I began respectfully as I glanced around the office. A number of folders were strewn across his desk, the sofa, and even part of the floor near the cabinets. I had never seen his office so disorganized.

“I assume you’ve heard?” 

“No…? I’ve been locked in a suspect triage with Terrorism. What happened?” A dozen different scenarios began to run through my mind. Was it a member of another team? Could a former case have gone the wrong way in court? A shiver ran through me at the thought of someone releasing information to Cruz. Was I going back?

Thankfully, Cruz was still focused on his own turn of events and remained indifferent to the emotion that I knew I had let slip. He leaned back in his chair and threw his hands up in frustration.

“The IRT has been disbanded. Effective immediately.”

“They can’t do that.”

“Except they did.” He explained grimly as he held a folder out for me to take. I moved to sit across from him, scanning the file eagerly for names and details.

“Rogue members. Insufficient protocol details. Severe risk to agency.” None of it sounded anything like Garrett’s group. “This-this … Assistant Director Barnes? She signed the notice?” Cruz nodded. “But she comes from the National Security branch. Why was she even involved with a CCRSB unit?”

He shrugged. “She must know someone. I know for a fact that she worked closely with the Director himself in their beginning years. The woman is notorious for opening investigations. I wasn’t alarmed when I first learned of their review but I was distracted by a request from the NSB and didn’t- didn’t think…”

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. “But Garrett? And the others?”

“They’ve been reassigned.” Cruz was massaging his brow. “As I suspected, eyes are on my other units now, following the IRT disbandment.”

“Is the AD attempting to place any fault with you?” Though I didn’t know much about Agent Barnes personally, I did know she was an expert at forcing out members of management. It was a difficult question to pose to Cruz but given what I had just learned, I was looking for any background information I could get in order to understand more of what had occurred. Especially if the AD’s focus would now shift in the direction of Cruz’s other sections, which would effectively put me in her line of fire. “Wasn’t she involved with restructuring the entire Counterintelligence Division in the massive reform that occurred last year following their assistant director’s retirement?”

Cruz looked incredibly drained as he drew his hand away from his brow and leaned in to meet my gaze, resting his elbows on his desk for support. “She was. Which is why we all need to be incredibly careful in the upcoming months. I am almost certain that each and every one of my units will be under her surveillance. You worked with the IRT on dozens of cases under Jack Garrett. To protect your interests, and your position, I believe it is best if you are reassigned to a permanent position within one of the remaining units.”

“You think what?” My concern for the members of the IRT had quickly flamed into anger at Cruz’s suggestion. “You can’t. I accepted this role under the condition that I would rotate through units, Cruz. A permanent position? That would nullify everything in my agreement. You don’t-“

“Each and every unit within the Criminal, Cyber, Response, and Services branch will be up for review now that the IRT has been disbanded. I can’t afford to have anyone question you or other resource agents. They will also be reassigned to new position in wake of the news. Given your experience across the department, I wanted you to be aware of the situation concerning the Assistant Director.” His voice was stern as he held my gaze. “There are a number of units that would benefit from your expertise, Agent Soleil. You’re working closely with Counter Terrorism at the moment due to the request from their chief but there are other units within the department to consider. Given recent events within the Behavioral Analysis Unit, they could certainly benefit from a fresh profiling perspective.”

“Recent events?”

“Agent Hotchner’s departure hit them significantly hard, though we were lucky to bring Agent Prentiss back from Interpol. Dr. Reid’s arrest hit them the hardest, which is understandable but it has also consumed a great deal of the team’s attention as of late. In light of the decision regarding the IRT, I’ve been reexamining different units. This is one unit that you would do well to partner with, considering the consultations that you’ve handled before. Your work tracking the escapees this summer was exceptional, as Aaron Hotchner had stated, though your profiling had been directed through VICAP. There are still three escapees to be caught from the mass prison break, Peter Lewis included.”

I couldn’t buy it. “The BAU? They’re an extremely tightknit group that would have only closed ranks now that one of their own has left and another claims to have been framed for murder. Honestly, Cruz, assigning me to them-“

“Would be beneficial.” He finished firmly.

“It would be incredibly difficult, especially at a time like this. They’d view it as a direct challenge to Emily Prentiss’ authority if you went over her head to assign me to their unit.”

“There would be no such thing.” Cruz retaliated as he leaned towards a stack of case files that he had left resting at the corner of his desk. “But nothing is certain yet, Agent Soleil. This is just a warning. I’m working with other section chiefs and the Deputy Director in order to secure the positions of all agents like yourself. If the budget of our division is called into question then I cannot afford to lose anyone. Given your training and experience throughout the department, you would be a valuable member to any team that you are assigned to.”

“Permanently assigned to.” I repeated with no desire to hide my contempt. The anxiety had begun to settle as I thought of everything that I worked so hard to keep hidden. There were cases that would need to remain buried, my own history that would have to remain silent. In any team dynamic, bonds were formed off the trust and faith that teammates put in one another. But I had been trained to do the exact opposite. My training revolved around the assumption that everyone lied and that everyone had something to hide. Because you never knew what secrets they kept.

As much as they loved to deny it, everyone had secrets.

It was only a matter of whether or not said secrets were dangerous to you. Dangerous to them.

The truth of what was to come made it difficult to hide my own frustration while the anger and worry were nearly boiling beneath the surface. But I couldn’t let Cruz suspect that I was anything other than willing to accept his commands now that I knew there would be no negotiating my way out of it that evening. The chief’s concerns were elsewhere, which was understandable, and he had said that he was protecting by own interests by securing said position. The budget of any department would be the first thing considered during an internal review and resources agents such as myself were typically the first to the chopping block when branch assets had to be redistributed, as Barnes was known to do.

But that didn’t mean I had to accept what was to happen. Or like it. 

Cruz barely looked up from the personnel files as he continued his recount of exactly how the IRT had been disbanded and what it meant for me as far as assignments went. “Whichever team you are placed with, you will need to be aware of outside interest. Each unit chief has been put on alert regarding the situation. It frustrates me to no end that I have no authority over Barnes’ decisions but I will do everything in my power to protect my units.”

“I understand.” I answered truthfully. If the BAU was a potential target for the administration then he would want to have a trusted source inside his teams. It was another aspect to rotating throughout the units. I was always set to inform Cruz of my own observations regarding team operations and potential, though they were nearly always of a positive manner. The idea of being assigned to simply wait out an attack from an assistant director was a completely different type of game.

One that I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

“It’s been a long night for us both, Soleil. Take the evening and get some rest. There’s the secondary Counter Terrorism meeting in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” I agreed with a nod as I returned the IRT file that I had yet to let go of. “Goodnight.” As I moved to close the door behind me, I caught a glimpse of Cruz where he remained sitting at his desk, rubbing his temples in frustration. It was a nightmare for anyone of his position.

Drawing my phone from my pocket, I scrolled through the contacts with a heavy sense of dread filling my veins. I had been doing so well on my own, with no need for assistance from anyone besides those that I had been assigned to work with. But with Cruz’s decision lingering over my head, I couldn’t afford to stand on my own any longer. A permanent assignment meant close contact. It meant daily communication. Colleague bonding. Something I couldn’t image, couldn’t allow.

Selecting the call button with a heavy sigh, I waited for what felt like decades as the phone rang and I started to wonder if it would have been best had I just sent a message instead. There was no need to forcibly conceal your tone of voice in a text message.

“Hello?” A surprised voice asked from the other end. I inhaled, bracing myself.

“It’s me.” I paused and exhaled loudly. “I need your help.”

. . . . . . . . .

Parents were smiling. Children were laughing. Dogs were barking. Everyone was focused on themselves. The perfect location for a discrete conversation. The first hour spent jogging along the park path ended with the sun rising in full across the park’s horizon. The exercise gave me the time I needed to think everything over. A long term assignment to a team couldn’t be what Cruz truly had planned, even if it was to secure a number of positions that could be threatened by Linda Barnes’ assessments.

There were half a dozen units that he could have considered assigning me to? Why had he seemed so focused on the Behavioral Analysis Unit?

He may have tried to make it seem as if he had yet to make a decision but he was always easy to see through. None of it made any sense. It wasn’t something I wanted, wasn’t something I needed. What I needed was independence, flexibility. I needed to stay focused on my own objectives. Temporary assignments had given me that opportunity. What exactly did Cruz really have planned?

The force of something solid running into me pulled me from my thoughts and nearly knocked me backwards in surprise. I looked down to see a panting black and brown shepherd staring up at me, tail thumping loudly from where she sat waiting. The dog was practically grinning. 

Despite all my current worries, my heart swelled at the sight as I knelt down to wrap my arms around the dog, pulling her to me. “Roxie, darling, I’ve missed you.” The dark shepherd buried her face into my chest as she pushed me further backwards in her excitement.

“Hey now, that’s my dog you’re trying to steal.” A voice laughed from behind us. I turned to see Luke Alvez grinning broadly, practically mirroring his own dog’s expression.

“It’s not stealing if she wants to go with me, Lucas.” 

He rolled his eyes before crossing his arms as his dark gaze filled with concern. I reluctantly tore myself away from the dog to stand directly before him, crossing my arms in return to mirror his gesture. My stare was hard and my lips were pressed together as we both waited for the other to move. Luke broke first, a broad smile brightening his features a moment later. “It’s been awhile, Soleil. I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad you came.”

Luke shook his head with a laugh. “It’s been nearly a year since we’ve seen one another, Rae. Then you call asking to meet up when we’re both finally in town at the same time? Of course I’m going to come.” He motioned for us to start jogging together. As we made our way down the path, he looked sideway in my direction. “Start talking, lady.”

“Cruz is planning something.” I explained simply. 

“What do you mean?”

“It started a few weeks ago. I was wrapping up a case and Cruz was there for the arrest, which isn’t entirely unusual but it was … different.” The twist in my stomach started to come back at the thought. “I think he’s thinking of an assignment. A permanent assignment.” It was a heavy confession, one which distracted Alvez enough so that he nearly tripped over a dip in the running path. He quickly regained his balance and came to a stop as I moved to continue my explanation. “He wants to meet again and if it’s about what I think-“

Luke turned to rest a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Breathe, Rae. What do you mean by planning?”

My gaze met his. “I think Cruz is planning to assign me to the BAU. Permanently.” Just admitted it aloud felt as if I now had a heavy weight strapped to my chest. A permanent position would be viewed as a promotion of sorts, but it would also be dangerous. And Luke knew that.

“Can you turn it down?”

“I would have to give him a reason why … and you and I both know that I can’t go there.” A heavy silence fell between us as we turned back on the path towards the park clearing.

“This could be a huge chance for you. You’ve been moving from case to case for years. Each assignment’s taken you somewhere new but stability doesn’t have to be a bad thing. What is it you would always say when I got upset that a fugitive got away?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed before answering reluctantly. “There’s something to learn.”

“Exactly.” Luke was clearly excited at the possibility of my transfer. “So what could you learn from this?”

As much as I hated to admit, a permanent assignment did have its benefits. “I would have access to more resources than I do now.” Resources that could be used to my advantage.

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Rae.” Luke murmured encouragingly. “I know you’re worried about being surrounded by a team like that but if you are assigned to the team then at least you know that you’ll be in good hands. Maybe this is a silver lining.”

It was difficult to hold back the urge to roll my eyes a second time. Of course Alvez would say that. Nearly a year with the team and he was already singing their praises. He didn’t truly understand the danger that being surrounded by a team full of profilers could bring.

Then again, Alvez was the one with the crystal clear past. 

He broke through my concerns by bumping his shoulder against mine. “And hey, speaking of resources. Did you get a chance to look into what I sent?”

“Some.” I answered honestly. “I was wrapping up the case I mentioned when you first sent it. What concerns me is the time that Peter Lewis is willing to wait in order to plot out his next advance. He spent twenty years planning his first attack. Even with his sights set on your team, there’s no way of knowing how long it may be until he makes his next move. I agree with your notes that he’ll remain underground while planning.” Luke confirmed my suspicions with a nod as he sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around Roxie as she pushed her head against him. “I’ve given the file to colleagues in Central America. They’re aware of his motives but his intelligence is very concerning. Though he may have made a mistake by going after Aaron Hotchner’s son, he’s refocused in successful moves against Dr. Lewis and Dr. Reid.”

“It’s both frustrating and exhausting. Not knowing what he could be planning next.”

My hand reached out to scratch Roxie’s ears as the shepherd moved between where the two of us were now sitting under one of the park’s trees. “What about your family, Luke?”

He sighed. “I’ve warned Ma and my sisters. They’re being careful but it’s not as if they can all be put under protective custody without any real information about Scratch’s motives.” Luke leaned into his dog. “We’re all working on it as much as we can but there are still other cases.”

“There will always be other cases.” I reminded him. “Peter Lewis is a threat but he’s not the end. You have to think like a tracker again. Look at the crimes. Look at the suspect. The one thing that’s consistent about the profile is the type of drugs that he uses to dose his victims and his reasons for doing so. There is always a reason. There is always a victim that gets dosed with those drugs.”

“Drugs that he spent years building stockpiles of.” Luke murmured grimly.

“But he’s used a lot of those drugs rather quickly, hasn’t it? The first round of attacks when he was first caught. A second round when he manipulated Daniel Cullen and those other victims. Not to mention dosing Dr. Lewis’ brother, his imposter, and Dr. Reid in Mexico.”

Luke’s brow furrowed as he began to run his hand through Roxie’s fur in a distracted motion. I could practically see the gears spinning. “Right. He has to be running low on his stock of that specific drug combo.” He looked up sharply. “Garcia’s been searching through Central American countries, marking cities of high crime and turmoil. Could she track those drugs?” 

“Possibly through pharmaceutical companies and small businesses.” I agreed, glad to see that he was starting to feel a bit more hopeful. “Don’t let your doubts takeover, Luke. We spent our summer hunting men like Peter Lewis. Maybe it just takes a bit of time to refocus.”

“I appreciate it, Rae. I do. I know that it’s not easy for you to reach back out to others like that.”

“I know but it was needed. Like Emily Prentiss noted in the file, this man operates like a terrorist. If we have to pull out all the resources to stop him then we will.” I elbowed him gently with a smile. “There’s a colleague, another profiler that I have reached out to as well. A fresh set of eyes can’t hurt, right?”

“Right.” Luke agreed, though he seemed to have deflated somewhat from the burst of optimism that he had just had moments before. He was clearly concerned for his team, and with good reason. My hand started combing through Roxie’s fur once more as I gave him the time that he needed to refocus.

Another sigh escaped him a few moments later. “We have to get him out of there.”

“You will.” 

“But what if we don’t?” Luke questioned. “I feel like a failure, Rae. Part of being on a team means protecting one another. I couldn’t keep the team safe. I couldn’t keep Reid safe. I hate this.”

A pang of worry shot through me and I inhaled, preparing to finally ask what had been burning in the back of my mind since I had heard of the arrest. “How is he doing?”

Another sigh. “Reid ... he’s just … it’s a completely different world. Catching killers is our thing but being surrounded by them on the inside? It’s a completely different kind of power pyramid and I know he feels defenseless. No agent should go through that.”

My mind went back to when I had first met Spencer Reid. He had been all shy smiles and nervous gestures. It hurt to think of someone like that being locked away. No wonder Luke was so anxious to get him out of there.

Smiling encouragingly, I leaned in to shove my shoulder against Luke’s. “I’m completing profiles for Cruz in the next few weeks, focusing on potential domestic terrorism threats using VICAP trends. I can’t promise that I’ll find anything in their databases that your analyst hasn’t already seen but if I get the time to ask for insight from a few in Domestic Terrorism then I definitely will. I promise.”

Alvez smiled gratefully in return. “I appreciate it, Rae. Really.” He paused before standing and turning to help me to my feet. “I have to get Roxie back for breakfast but we need to talk again. Soon. When is your next meeting with Cruz?”

“That’s uncertain. He explained that he’s still reviewing options. It should give me time to refocus and distract myself from the anxiety connected to the assignment.”

“Everything will be fine, Rae, even if you are assigned to the unit. Nothing’s official yet.”

“Which means I can still have hope.”

Luke grinned. “Yeah. Hope that you’ll be able to see my gorgeous face every day.”

My glare, meant to show my lack of amusement, only made him laugh in response. Shaking my head, I bent to give Roxie a kiss goodbye while I continued to ignore the teasing smile that her owner held. “Keep it up, Alvez. I may not want this assignment but I do have an arsenal of embarrassing moments to share with that team of yours if it does happen. Karaoke, maybe?”

Luke paled visibly.

“You wouldn’t.” 

The corner of my mouth twitched in a subconscious smile.

“Oh, but I would, Lucas. I really would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? I hope it doesn't feel as if the fic is dragging alone. Histories and future plans will all be revealed in time, I promise. Last chapter was a first glimpse into the mind of Luke Alvez that was great to write. For those who have tried to piece together the jumbled timeline of the later seasons, this chapter is around early May 2017.

**Author's Note:**

> Being completely honest, this is a fic idea that's been around for years. With the series coming to an end, I thought it'd be time to finally share it with the world.


End file.
